Dreamworld? Think again
by blackkitty479
Summary: A different ending for Out of the Blue...What if the suicide method only worked for Will and Helen is still trapped in the dream world?


**_Just a little one-shot after Out Of The Blue... Contains spoilers and you'll need the episode to get what this is about. :P_**

'Does anything bother you, my dear?' John asked as he placed his hands on Helen's shoulders. 'Having weird thoughts again?' he continued when Helen didn't answer.

'I'm fine, John.' She replied with a sigh. 'I should find something to work, a new painting, something to keep my mind occupied.'

'We had this talk, my love. It is painting that got you here, remember? Six months ago, when that crazy neighbor of yours committed suicide…'

'And almost got me killed in the process. I know, John, I know. He drugged me, got into my mind and convinced me to drive. I know!'

'Good. Because I almost lost you that day. I don't want this to happen again. You are my Helen. For all eternity. Remember that.'

'And if I don't want this?'

'What do you mean you don't want it? I thought you gave up the divorce idea. I stayed weeks in that bloody hospital, waiting for you to come back from the dead… What is wrong with you, for the love of God? Your life is perfect with me!'

'Perfect…' Helen sighed. 'That's precisely the problem, John. I am not sure I want perfection. Not with you at least.'

'You are confused, my dear.' John said as he took her in his arms. 'You just need some sleep. Let me take care of you.' She silently accepted his embrace, but she turned her face when he wanted to kiss her. This wasn't right. Maybe it was reality, but she didn't like it. She still remembered things, colors, from her previous life. Or whatever that was. Sure, John had tried to make her forget in any way possible, he had even moved to another town, but it wasn't enough. She was feeling empty. Like she was missing something. Or someone.

Helen tried to go to bed, but she woke up in the middle of the night. And for a strange reason she shuddered when she saw John sleeping next to her. No, this life was clearly not what she wanted. And she didn't care what John said. She had to paint. Now.

She silently got off her bed and went to the garage. Thankfully, John hadn't found her secret hideout there. Sure, a few paintbrushes and an easel weren't exactly everything she needed, but they had to do. So she mixed a few colors and started to paint. A sad smile fluttered on her lips when she looked at her painting. It wasn't much, actually just some pointless lines, but that color… She knew that color. And for some reason each time she saw that color, she felt a warm feeling flooding her soul. A lot warmer than any embrace John had ever given her. As her fingers caressed the paper, she let her mind wander a bit. Steel blue… a beautiful color indeed. _Imagine someone having steel blue eyes,_ she thought. _I'd fall in love with a guy only because of this._ What the hell was she thinking, actually? Everybody knew that blue eyes are pretty rare and that they were actually a recessive trait, a mutation affecting the OCA2 gene in the human chromosomes. Helen's breath stopped for a minute. _Wait a minute._ This was genetics. Not all people know that. Something was wrong with her. How could she possibly know that, given the fact that the only school she had ever taken was the painting one? But still, she knew that color. And this wasn't the only thing she remembered. She remembered something else. _Because I love you. More than that lunatic Druitt ever did._ An old love interest, perhaps? She didn't know. But se sure wanted to find out. At least have a chat with the guy and find out why he was haunting her dreams.

'This must come to an end now, Helen!' John's yelling woke her up from her dreaming. 'I thought you gave up painting!'

'I did. You call this painting?' She tried to defend herself. For God's sake, why was she acting like a school girl who had just been caught by her parents?

'You PROMISED!' John screamed at her. 'Enough of this!' he punched the easel and it fell, breaking in the process. 'I know what you want! You think that painting will get you back, back to him! I am not going to let this happen, Helen.'

'What did you say?'

'It has to end, Helen.'

'You said back to _him_. Back to who?'

'To that Zimmerman guy.' John spat at her. He is dead, Helen. And if it wasn't for me, you'd be dead too. Remember that.'

'Well maybe it would have been better this way.'

'Don't say that, Helen. I love you.' He was calmer now and he tried to approach her. 'I'm sorry. I just don't want to lose you again.'

'Is this what you told them too? To Annie? To Mary Ann? Mary Jane? Elizabeth? Or did you call her Lizzie?'

'I don't know who these girls are, Helen.'

'And no one will, thanks to you. You killed them.'

'Killed who, exactly?'

'I don't know, John. I just know that somehow, somewhere, you killed five girls at least.'

'You're mad, Helen. Let me get you into bed.'

'Leave me alone, John.'

'But…'

'Get out. Now!'

It seemed yelling at him worked, because he left her with a sigh. When she was finally alone in the garage, she tried to gather the pieces of her now broken painting. If this was what life meant, she didn't want it. As a matter of fact, she was sick and tired of it.

Helen looked around trying to figure how she could try to commit suicide this time. She had her temperas; the easel was made of wood… perfect to start a little fire. A smile fluttered on her face when she thought about the newspapers the next day. _Painter killed by her own work._ It didn't sound bad at all. At least, she'd end her career in flames… literally. The only problem was that she didn't have a match. But, she had the car. And somehow she knew that if she short-circuited the car battery it would cause a spark big enough to light up the gas the car had. Add the easel and she had an instant fire. Perfect.

It took her a lot more to actually decide on doing it then finishing the job. In a moment she was surrounded by flames and smoke. Suddenly she felt dizzy and she knew that it was because of the carbon monoxide that was taking over her lungs. Good. So she will fall asleep before feeling the flames on her skin. Perfect. She closed her eyes slowly, letting death take over her, over her every cell. Well, it sure felt better than life with John.

Helen felt someone taking her in his arms and started to struggle. She didn't want to be saved, she wanted to die, to escape from this nightmare…And she most certainly didn't want John to save her again. But that wasn't John. She didn't know who that man was, but she knew that being caught in his strong grip wasn't exactly unpleasant. His muscles were hard and firm but his touch was incredibly soft and tender.

Helen's eyes met her saviour's and a storm of feelings invaded her soul. She knew that man. Those steel blue eyes that had been haunting her dreams for over six months now, that cheeky but incredibly sexy smirk… and for some reason she would have bet her life that under that helmet was the most ruffable hair ever. She felt herself falling asleep, and tried to fight it but with little success. So she just encircled the fireman's neck with her arms and let her mind dream probably the most pleasant dreams she had had in a while.

'Right. I forgot. Your dream, not mine. I don't know why I hoped you'd be less stubborn.'

'Excuse me?' Helen opened her eyes, only to discover that she was now outside the garage, sitting in her saviour's lap. She should have learned to stare less or she'd probably thought she was impolite. But after all, he was all sweaty, his clothes burnt out each and there, his face pretty full of ashes, almost as dirty as her thoughts about him… A little bit of staring couldn't hurt after all.

'Who are you?' it was the first question that came on her lips.

'Heinrich warned me about this. He said that the venom went crazy and that it practically erased all of your memories, but I hoped you'd remember me at least.'

'Wait a minute. Heinrich?'

'Henry, whatever. He sent me.'

'My cat sent you?'

The fireman burst out in laughter. It was an infectious laugh, so childish and so sexy at the same time. 'He will not be pleased when he'll hear about this.'

'I remember you, though. Well, not everything, but I remember feelings, sensations…'

'What feelings?' Helen's knees melted when she saw that vulnerable look. She knew it all too well. As a matter of fact, she seemed to know a lot about her mysterious savior. Except his name…

'I don't know.'

'As I said, not much changed.' Nikola said with a sad smile. 'Oh well. I was sent here for a reason.'

'Reason?'

'Yes. You see, this venom works like a virus. It developed some kind of immunity to the suicide method so I won't recommend it anymore. But Heinrich said that a very high dose of adrenaline would wake you up.'

'Adrenaline?'

'Yes. Sadly, I wasn't able to bring any with me, so we'll have to improvise.'

'Are you saying that you're here to wake me up?'

'Yes. This is what you want, right?'

'Will you be there on the other side?'

'Dream Helen indeed…' Nikola smiled sadly. 'As I always am. Not that you'd notice it too often.'

'Good. What do I have to-'

She wasn't able to finish the phrase because the man crushed his lips on hers, trapping them into the most passionate kiss possible. She barely had the time of snatching that annoying helmet off his head and thrusting her fingers in that delicious hair, bringing him closer to her, as her lips tasted more of his mouth. She knew him. She knew those soft lips, she knew that taste, and she knew his name. Nikola Tesla. The one who was able to make her heart flinch even in this nightmare world. She let his lips go for a second to get some air and her lungs made a protest. They had been just taken out of the water and it took them a while to adapt.

Helen opened her eyes and looked around. It had worked. She was back in that research lab, her body half submerged in water.

'What the heck happened?' it was the only thing she managed to say.

'Welcome back, sleeping beauty.' Nikola was right beside her, deliciously wet from head to toes, water dripping from his hair.

'As I explained, _your cat_ figured out that the virus had developed a way of resisting the suicide treatment. It worked for Junior, but with you… It kept resetting your memories each time you tried. So Heinrich had a brilliant idea, I must say. After you committed suicide like, five times, he decided to use something else to wake you up. Or better said someone. You see, there had to be someone able to make you give up John. And of course he thought about me. '

'How did you end up being a fireman, actually?' Helen asked, ignoring Nikola's last words.

'Well, you'll have to ask your mind about that. It chose to picture me like that. Now if this was because you needed to be saved from a fire or because it was one of your crazy fantasies… That, I can't say.'

'Don't let it get over your head.' Helen said as she let her eyes feast a little with that sexy sight. Nikola in that insanely tight black suit that showed all of his forms, not to mention wet… Delicious in one word. And she couldn't help wondering if his lips were as kissable in real life as they had been in her dream…

'Are you going to spend all your day in that tank? Because if you do… well at least you could move a little. I think we could share it. You know you want to.' Nikola said with a smirk.

'Keep dreaming, Nikola.' Helen said as she got off the water tank and went to speak with Henry and Will. After all, she probably had a lot to find out about the time she had been asleep.

'I always am, Helen.' Nikola whispered from behind her back, sending a hot shiver over her spine and she couldn't help smiling a little. Dream or not, Nikola sometimes seemed too sexy to be completely real…


End file.
